Ui^-l'^nLr 


MARCH,  1900  VELASQ'    2Z  PRICE,  25  CENTS 


B   M   SflM   bSD 


hQlusitratEiiilipnojatfiv^si 


Jgsuetilftpntilu, 


VELASQUEZ 


PART  3  _— -  VOLUME  I 


Bate0antt^uttd<lotnpanii, 


O 


335685 


MASTEHS    IN   AKT.      PLATK  I 


VKLASQUEZ 

UOJSr  l-EKUIXAJVU  OF  AUSTBIA 

PRADO,   MADEID 


MASTEKS   IIV  AKT.      i>I,ATE  III 


VELASQUEZ 

JUANA  UE  MIRANDA 

BERLIN  GALLERT 


MASTKKS   IN  AKT.      PLATE  IV 


VELASQVEZ 

DOX  BALTASAH  CARLOS  ON  HOESEBACK 

PRADO,  MADRID 


MASTKHS  IN  ART.      PLATE  V 


VELASQUKZ 

POPE  lA'NOGENT  X. 

DORIA  GALLEHT,  HOME 


«  « 


MASTBKS   IN  AKT.      PLATE  VII 


VELASQUEZ 

THE  MAIDS   OE  HONOH 

PHABO,  MADEIl) 


1  "^ 

X 


MASTfLKS   IN    A  KT.      VLATV,  IX 


TELASUUEZ 

PHILllJ   IV. 

JVATIOlVAXi  GALLEET,   X,ONDOX 


f 


,\ 


J? 


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MASTKKS    IJV  ART.      PX.ATE  X 


VKLASQUEZ 

THK  JX^'AXTA    iLAKIA   THEKESA 

PRADO.   MADHIU 


POBTBAIT  or  VELASQUEZ  BT  UlilSELF 

The  likeness  here  reproduced  is  supposed  to  be  the  original  sketch  for 
a  portrait  which  Pacheco  credits  Velasquez  as  having  painted  while  in 
Rome  in  i  630.  The  artist  is  dressed  in  black,  his  complexion  is  pale, 
his  hair  dark  and  thick.  The  face,  decidedly  Spanish  in  its  type,  is  ex- 
pressive and  svmpathetic.  It  represents  him  at  about  the  age  of  thirty- 
one.      The  portrait  hangs  in  the  Capitoline  Gallery,  Rome. 


MASTERS     IN     ART 


BORN    1  -)  9  -,)  :    DIED    1000 
SPANISH    SCHOOL 

<'EDINBURGHREVIEW"  VOL.171 

DIEGO  RODRIGUEZ  DE  SILVA  VELASQUEZ  (pronounced  Vay-lahs- 
keth)  was  born  at  Seville  on  or  about  June  6,  i  599  —  in  the  same  year  as  Van 
Dvck,  and  six  years  before  his  royal  master  and  patron,  Philip  IV.  of  Spain.  His 
father,  Juan  Rodriguez  de  Silva,  was  of  ancient  Portuguese  lineage,  and  his  mother. 
Dona  Geronima  Velasquez,  belonged  to  a  good  stock  of  Seville,  both  families  ranking 
as  Sevillan  kidalgcs  or  members  ot  the  inferior  nobilitv.  According  to  an  Andalusian 
custom,  the  name  by  which  he  is  commonly  known  is  that  of  his  mother. 

Velasquez's  first  teacher  in  art  was  the  terrible  Francisco  de  Herrera,  an  erratic  but 
unquestionably  gifted  precursor  of  Spanish  realism,  from  whose  ungenial  studio  he  soon 
proceeded  to  that  of  Francisco  Pacheco.  Here  he  studied  for  fully  five  years,  aild,  at 
the  end  of  that  time,  in  161  8,  married  Pacheco's  daughter,  Juana  de  Miranda,  of 
which  event  the  elder  master  gives  the  following  naive  description:  "After  five  years 
of  education  and  training,  I  married  him  to  mv  daughter,  induced  bv  his  youth,  integ- 
rity, and  good  qualities,  and  the  prospects  of  his  great  natural  genius."    .    .    . 

It  is  quite  possible  that  having  shown  thus  early  —  for  he  was  at  the  date  of  his 
marriage  onlv  in  his  nineteenth  vear — a  calm,  equable  temperament  hardly  consistent 
with  vast  and  ambitious  designs,  he  might  have  been  well  content  to  settle  down  to  the 
uneventful  career  and  the  moderate  gains  of  a  provincial  artist.  On  March  31,  1621, 
there  occurred,  however,  quite  unexpectedly,  an  event  which  agreeably  excited  and  per- 
turbed all  who  had  formed  projects  of  advancement  or  change.  This  was  the  sudden 
death  of  Philip  III.,  and  the  consequent  accession  to  the  throne  of  Philip  IV.,  then  a 
boy  in  his  fifteenth  year,  of  whose  abilities  a  high  estimate  had  already  been  formed, 
and  who  had  for  this  reason  been  jealously  excluded  from  all  participation  in  State 
affairs.    .    .    . 

When  Velasquez  undertook  his  first  journey  to  Madrid  in  search  of  more  rapid 
advancement,  his  father-in-law,  Pacheco,  gave  him  introductions  to  important  Sevillans 
attached  to  the  court,  but  these  efforts  led  to  no  result,  for  no  introduction  to  the  young 
king  was  on  this  occasion  brought  about.  In  the  spring  of  1623,  however,  came  a 
letter  from  his  friend  Don  Juan  de  Fdnseca  v  Figueroa,  inviting  him,  at  the  request  of 
the  all-powerful  Minister  Olivares,  to  return  to  Madrid,  and  granting  a  sum  of  fifty 
ducats  for  travelling  expenses. 

Velasquez  made  his  d'ebut,  or  rather  his  r entree,  with  a  portrait  of  Fonseca,  which, 
being  carried  to  the  palace,  met  with  such  recognition  that  it  was  forthwith  declared 
that  he  should  paint  Don  Ferdinand,  the  king's  brother,  and  then  on  fiirther  considera- 
tion, that  he  should  commence  with  the  king  himself;  and  to  the  magic  of  Velasquez's 


22  <3X^  a^ttv  ^    in    ^tt 

brush  it  is  due  that  Philip's  memory  has  not  become  as  dim,  as  faint  in  outline,  as  that 
of  any  other  weakling  monarch  of  the  long  Spanish  decadence,  which  dates  from  the 
last  years  of  Philip  II.  With  this  same  painter  the  king  was  to  continue,  with  two  im- 
portant intervals,  in  daily  and  intimate  intercourse  during  forty  years;  and  besides  the 
unbounded  admiration  of  the  true  connoisseur  that  he  undoubtedly  was,  Philip  accorded 
to  the  artist  as  much  friendship  and  regard  as  it  was  possible  for  e/  Rey,  isolated  and 
walled  in  by  the  inflexible  court  etiquette  of  the  time,  to  vouchsafe  to  a  subject. 

Thus  was  Velasquez,  at  the  exceptionally  early  age  of  twenty-three  years,  formally 
installed  as  one  of  the  specially  privileged  painters  of  Philip  IV.,  with  a  studio  in  the 
palace,  a  residenee  in  the  city,  and  a  monthly  stipend  of  twenty  ducats,  to  which  was 
added,  moreover,  special  payment,  as  Pacheco  states,  for  each  work  produced.    .    .    . 

An  important  event  in  the  artistic  career  of  the  master  was  the  nine  months'  visit  of 
Rubens  to  Spain  (1628—29)  on  the  occasion  of  his  famous,  quasi-diplomatic  mission  to 
the  Spanish  court.  Although  Velasquez  had  a  high  admiration  for  Rubens,  and,  more- 
over, had  unlimited  opportunities  of  studying  his  technique,  it  is  a  misapprehension  to 
date  the  growth  of  his  second  manner,  with  its  increase  in  lightness,  unity,  and  force  of 
tone,  and  its  added  preoccupation  with  atmospheric  effect,  to  a  study  or  imitation  of  the 
elder  master.  It  is  rather  to  the  first  Italian  journey,  undertaken  in  1630  (partly  at  the 
instigation  of  Rubens),  and  to  the  close  study  of  Titian  and  Tintoretto  at  Venice  that 
the  pronounced  change  and  further  development  in  the  style  of  the  painter  must  be 
attributed,  in  so  far  as  it  is  not  to  be  accounted  for  by  his  natural  self-development  in 
the  direction  of  that  "  verdad  no  pintura  "  ("truth,  not  painting  ")  which  was  his 
device  in  art,  and  the  principle  towards  the  more  complete  realization  of  which  his 
endeavors  constantly  tended.    .    .    . 

It  is  hardlv  surprising  to  learn,  on  the  authority  of  Palomino,  that  "he  was  much 
pleased  with  the  paintings  of  Titian,  Tintoretto,  Paolo,  and  other  artists  of  that  school; 
therefore  he  drew  incessantlv  the  whole  time  he  was  in  V^enice,  and  especially  made 
studies  from  Tintoretto's  famous  'Crucifixion,'  and  made  a  copy  of  the  '  Communion 
of  the  Apostles,'  which  he  presented  to  the  king." 

Velasquez  entered  Rome  for  the  first  time  in  the  year  1630,  and  obtained  a  residence 
in  the  Vatican,  which,  however,  he  soon  renounced  in  favor  of  the  Villa  Medici.  Of 
this  enchanting  site  he  has  left  two  characteristic  landscape  studies,  now  in  the  Prado, 
Madrid. 

For  the  next  eighteen  years  after  his  return  from  Italy,  \'elasquez  remained  uninter- 
ruptedly in  the  king's  service,  and  his  happy  life  of  successful  production,  carried  on 
under  the  vivifying  rays  of  a  court  favor,  which  was  undimmed  in  his  particular  branch 
by  rivalry,  is  eventful  only  from  the  artistic,  and  not  from  the  purely  personal  point  of 
view.  It  was  during  this  period  that  he  acquired,  in  addition  to  his  appointment  of  court 
painter,  several  offices — practically  sinecures  —  the  functions  of  which  were  connected 
with  the  service  of  their  majesties  and  the  court  ceremonies.    .    .    • 

Olivares,  always  on  the  watch  to  exorcise  the  brooding  melancholy  to  which  Philip, 
after  the  fashion  of  his  royal  house,  now  already  gave  way,  hit  upon  the  expedient  of 
conjuring  up  on  the  outskirts  of  the  Prado  a  royal  villa  and  grounds,  to  which  the  name 
of  "  Buen  Retiro  "  was  given.  To  adorn  the  walls  of  the  new-made  palace  twelve 
military  paintings  of  the  largest  dimensions  were  ordered  for  the  "  Sala  del  Reino, "  to 
illustrate  the  achievements  which  had  marked  the  reign  of  Philip.  These  were  executed 
bv  seven  painters  under  the  personal  supervision  of  Velasquez,  who,  being  but  imper- 
fectly satisfied  with  Jose  Leonardo's  version  of  the  "Surrender  of  Breda, "  himself  un- 
dertook to  repeat  this  subject  at  a  later  period. 

In  November,  1648,  nearly  twenty  years  after  his  first  visit  to  Rome,  Velasquez 


Bclaj^que^  23 

again  left  Madrid  for  Italy.  The  ostensible  motive  for  this  second  Italian  journey  was 
to  make  arrangements,  in  his  capacity  of  director  of  the  works  then  in  progress  at  the 
Alcazar,  for  the  pictorial  embellishment  of  the  new  apartments,  and  the  acquisition  of 
fresh  art  treasures  for  their  adornment.  On  his  return  to  Madrid,  he  petitioned  for  and 
obtained  the  highly  remunerative  but  onerous  office  of  Aposentador  de  Palacio,  or  pal- 
ace marshal  to  the  king,  and  in  this  capacity  was  charged  with  all  the  complicated  ar- 
rangements necessitated  by  the  royal  journey  to  the  Pyrenees,  undertaken  on  April  i  5, 
1660,  on  the  occasion  of  the  betrothal  of  the  Infanta  Maria  Theresa  to  the  youthful 
Louis  XIV.  of  France.  Yet  it  may  not  be  doubted  that  this  herculean  task  was  to  him 
a  labor  of  love  —  so  saturated  was  he  with  the  Spanish  court  traditions,  and  with  such 
unaffected  seriousness  did  he  take  the  administrative  as  well  as  the  artistic  side  of  his  life. 
His  duties  were  by  no  means  ended  when  the  royal  caravan  had,  after  nearly  a  month's 
journey,  reached  San  Sebastian,  the  place  chosen  for  the  meeting  of  the  French  and 
Spanish  courts;  for  here  it  became  his  office  to  inspect  the  ephemeral  palace  erected  on 
the  Island  of  Pheasants  as  a  Conference  House  for  the  joint  accommodation  of  the  two 
sovereigns,  and  to  superintend  its  decoration  throughout  with  the  finest  Flemish  tapes- 
tries, a  selection  of  which  had  been  expressly  brought  for  the  purpose  from  the  Alcazar 
of  Madrid. 

Palomino  speaks  in  glowing  terms  of  the  courtly  refinement  of  Velasquez,  who  as  a 
court  official  was  present  at  all  the  stately  functions  and  festivities  which  ensued.  His 
costume  on  those  occasions  was  ot  great  elaboration,  and  displayed  an  exquisite  taste  and 
elegance.  Amid  numerous  costly  diamonds  and  gems  he  proudly  displayed  the  re- 
cently acquired  Order  of  Santiago,  the  red  cross  of  which  was  embroidered  also,  in  ac- 
cordance with  custom,  on  the  cloak  of  the  wearer. 

On  June  26  the  master  was  back  in  Madrid,  greeted  with  as  much  astonishment  as 
joy  by  his  wife,  family,  and  friends;  for  a  report  of  his  death,  which  was  but  a  presage 
of  the  end,  then  close  at  hand,  had  already  reached  the  capital.  On  the  last  day  of 
July,  after  having  been  all  day  in  immediate  attendance  on  his  majesty,  he  was  attacked 
by  a  subtle  tertain  fever,  to  which,  after  much  suffering,  he  succumbed  on  August  6, 
in  the  year  1660.  He  had,  at  the  command  of  the  king,  been  attended  in  his  last  mo- 
ments by  no  less  a  personage  than  the  Archbishop  of  Tyre  and  Patriarch  of  both  Indies, 
and  his  remains  were  honored  with  solemn  and  soberly  splendid  obsequies,  such  as 
befitted  his  high  position  at  court  and  his  recent  inclusion  in  the  knightly  Order  of 
Santiago. 


Cf)e  art  of  ^elasque? 

RICHARDFORD  "THEPENNYCYCLOPiEDIA" 

IT  is  impossible  to  estimate  Velasquez  without  going  to  Madrid.  On  seeing  him  in 
this,  the  richest  gallery  in  the  whole  world,  the  first  impression  of  his  masculine 
power  and  universality  of  talent  is  irresistible.  It  is  the  reality  more  than  the  imitation 
of  life  and  nature,  and  in  every  varied  form. 

His  portraits  baffle  description  and  praise;  they  must  be  seen.  He  elevated  that  branch 
to  the  dignity  of  history.  He  drew  the  minds  of  men.  They  live,  breathe,  and  seem 
ready  to  walk  out  of  the  frames.  His  power  of  painting  circumambient  air,  his  knowl- 
edge of  lineal  and  aerial  perspective,  the  gradations  of  tones  in  light,  shadow,  and  color, 
give  an  absolute  concavity  to  the  flat  surface  of  his  canvas.  We  look  into  space,  into  a 
room,  into  the  reflection  of  a  mirror.    .    .    . 


24  a^a^ter^inSlrt 

After  a  few  days  spent  in  the  gallery  of  Madrid,  we  fancy  that  we  have  actually  been 
acquainted  with  the  royal  family  and  court  of  that  day,  and  that  we  have  lived  with 
them.  None  perhaps  but  a  Spaniard  could  so  truly  paint  the  Castilian.  Velasquez  was 
the  Van  Dyck  of  Madrid.  He  caught  the  high-bred  look  of  the  hidalgo,  his  grave  de- 
meanor and  severe  costume,  with  an  excellence  equal  to  his  Flemish  rival,  differing  only 
in  degree.  He  was  less  fortunate  in  models.  Van  Dyck,  like  Zeuxis,  had  the  selection 
of  the  most  beauteous  forms,  faces,  and  apparel  in  the  English  court  of  Charles  I. 
He  seemed  created  expressly  to  delineate,  with  his  clear,  silverv,  and  transparent 
tones,  his  elegant  aristocratic  air,  those  delicate  skins,  and  tapering  fingers  which  are 
never  seen  in  coarse,  tawny  Spain;  but  Velasquez  never  condescended  to  flatter  even 
royalty.  Honesty  was  his  policy.  Courts  could  not  make  a  courtier  of  his  pracdcal 
genius,  which  saw  everything  as  it  really  was;  and  his  hand,  that  obeved  his  intellect, 
gave  the  exact  form  and  pressure.  He  rarely  refined.  He  did  not  stoop  to  conciliate 
and  woo  his  spectator.  Thus,  even  when  displeased  with  repulsive  subjects,  we  sub- 
mit to  the  power  of  a  master-mind  displaved  in  the  representadon.    .    .    . 

Velasquez  was  inferior  to  Van  Dyck  in  representing  female  beauty,  for  he  had  not 
Van  Dyck's  advantages.  The  Oriental  jealousy  of  the  Spaniard  revolted  at  any  female 
portraiture,  and  still  more  at  any  display  of  beauteous  form.  The  roval  ladies,  almost 
the  only  exception,  were  unworthy  models,  while  the  use  of  rouge  disfigured  their  faces, 
and  the  enormous  petticoats  masked  their  proportions.  \^elasquez  was  emphatically  a 
man,  and  the  painter  of  men. 

He  was,  moreover,  a  painter  only  of  the  visible,  tangible  beings  on  earth,  not  the 
mysncal,  glorified  spirits  of  heaven.  He  could  not  conceive  the  inconceivable,  nor  de- 
fine the  indefinite.  He  required  to  touch  before  he  could  believe  —  a  fiilcrum  for  his 
mighty  lever.  He  could  not  escape  from  humanitv,  nor  soar  above  the  clouds;  he  was 
somewhat  deficient  in  "creative  power;"  he  was  neither  a  poet  nor  as  enthusiast. 
Nature  was  his  guide,  truth  his  delight,  man  his  model.  No  \"irgin  ever  descended 
into  his  studio;  no  cherubs  hovered  around  his  palette.  He  did  not  work  for  priest  or 
ecstatic  anchorite,  but  for  plumed  kings  and  booted  knights.    .    .    . 

In  things  mortal  and  touching  man  Velasquez  was  more  than  mortal.  He  is  perfect 
throughout,  whether  painting  high  or  low,  rich  or  poor,  young  or  old,  human,  animal, 
or  natural  objects.  His  dogs  are  equal  to  Snyder's;  his  chargers  to  Rubens  —  they  know 
their  rider.  When  Velasquez  descended  from  heroes,  his  beggars  and  urchins  rivalled 
Murillo.  No  Teniers  or  Hogarth  ever  came  up  to  the  waggish  wassail  of  his  drunk- 
ards. He  is  by  far  the  first  landscape  painter  of  Spain;  his  scenes  are  full  of  local  color, 
freshness,  and  daylight,  whether  verdurous,  court-like  avenues  or  wild,  rocky  solitudes. 
His  historical  pictures  are  pearls  of  great  price;  never  were  knights  and  soldiers  so  painted 
as  in  his  "Surrender  of  Breda. " 

His  drawing  was  admirable,  correct  and  unconstrained;  his  mastery  over  his  mate- 
rials unequalled;  his  coloring  was  clear  and  clean;  he  seldom  used  mixed  tints;  he 
painted  with  long  brushes,  and  often  as  coarselv  as  floor-cloth;  but  the  effects,  when 
seen  from  the  intended  distance,  wxre  magical,  evervthing  coming  out  into  its  proper 
place,  form  and  tone.  Yet  no  man  was  ever  more  sparing  of  color.  He  husbanded 
his  whites  and  even  his  yellows,  which  tell,  sparkling  like  gold,  on  his  undertoned  back- 
grounds. These,  especially  in  his  landscapes,  were  cool  grevs,  skies,  and  misty  morn- 
ings—  nature  seen  with  the  intervention  of  air.  He  painted  with  a  rapid,  flowing  and 
certain  brush,  with  that  ease,  the  test  of  perfection,  that  absence  of  art  and  effort,  which 
made  all  imagine  that  thet  could  do  the  same  —  until  they  tried,  failed,  and  despaired. 
The  results  obtained  are  so  true  to  nature  that  first  beholders,  as  with  Raphael  at  the 
Vatican,  are  sometimes  disappointed  that  there  is  nothing  more.    He  was  above  all  tricks. 


Bclaj^que;  25 

There  is  no  masking  poverty  of  hand  or  mind  under  meretricious  glitter;  all  is  sober, 
real,  and  sterling.  He  conceived  his  idea,  worked  it  rapidly  out,  taking  advantage  of 
everything  as  it  turned  up,  correcting  and  improving  as  he  went  on,  knowing  what  he 
wanted,  and  —  which  few  do  —  when  he  had  got  it.  Then  he  left  off,  and  never  frit- 
tered away  his  breadth  or  emphatic  effect  by  superfluous  finish  to  mere  accessories. 
These  were  dashed  in  con  quattro  botti — but  true,  for  he  never  put  brush  to  canvas 
without  an  intention  and  meaning.  No  painter  was  ever  more  objective.  There  is  no 
showing  off  of  the  artist,  no  calling  attention  to  the  performer's  dexterity.  His  mind 
was  in  his  subject,  into  which  he  passed  his  whole  soul,  loving  art  for  itself,  without 
one  disturbing  thought  of  self.  He  was  true  throughout  to  Nature,  and  she  was  true  to 
him,  and  has  rewarded  him  with  immortality,  which  she  confers  only  on  those  who 
worship  with  undivided  allegiance  at  her  shrine. 

R  .     A  .      M  .     STEVENSON  >' T  H  E      A  R  T      O  F      V  E  L  A  S  y  U  E  Z  " 

WHEN  one  speaks  of  Velasquez,  it  must  be  remembered  that  his  influence  upon 
art  is  still  young.  His  genius  slumbered  for  two  hundred  years,  till  the  sympa- 
thy of  one  or  two  great  artists  broke  the  spell  and  showed  us  the  true  enchanter  ot  real- 
ism, shaping  himself  from  a  cloud  of  misapprehension.    .    .    . 

As  yet  few  but  painters  enjoy  Velasquez,  or  rightly  estimate  his  true  position  in  the 
history  of  art.  Not  much  is  known  about  him.  Contempt,  not  to  say  oblivion,  fell  on 
the  man  who  preconceived  the  spirit  of  our  own  day.  Amongst  notable  prophets  of 
the  new  and  true  —  Rubens,  Rembrandt,  Claude  —  he  was  the  newest,  and  certainly 
the  truest,  from  our  point  of  view;  so  new  and  so  true,  indeed,  that  two  hundred  years 
after  he  had  shown  the  mystery  of  light  as  God  made  it,  we  still  hear  that  Velasquez 
was  a  sordid  soul  who  never  saw  beauty,  a  mere  master  of  technique,  wholly  lacking 
in  imagination.    .    .    . 

In  his  latest  pictures  Velasquez  seems  to  owe  as  little  as  any  man  may  to  the  example 
of  earlier  painters.  But,  indeed,  from  the  beginning  he  was  a  realist,  and  one  whose  ideal 
of  art  was  to  use  his  own  eyes.  His  early  pictures  cannot  be  attached  surely  to  anji^ 
school;  they  are  of  doubtful  parentage;  though,  with  some  truth,  one  might  affiliate 
them  to  Caravaggio  and  the  Italian  naturalists.  From  the  first,  he  shows  sensitiveness 
to  form,  and  a  taste  for  solid  and  direct  painting.  He  quickly  learned  to  model  with 
surprising  justness,  but  for  a  long  time  he  continued  to  treat  a  head  in  a  group  as  he 
would  if  he  saw  it  alone.  Only  slowly  he  learned  to  take  the  impression  of  a  whole 
scene  as  the  true  motif  of  a  picture.  In  his  early  work  he  faithfully  observed  the  rela- 
tions between  bits  of  his  subject,  but  not  always  the  relation  of  each  bit  to  the  whole. 
M  we  compare  the  realistic  work  of  the  young  Velasquez  with  the  pictures  of  the  great 
Venetians,  we  shall  find  it  lacking  their  comfortable  unity  of  aspect.  That  aspect  may 
have  been  more  remote  in  its  relation  to  nature,  but  it  was  certainly  ampler  and  more 
decoratively  beautiful.  Up  to  the  age  of  thirty,  indeed,  Velasquez  seemed  content  to 
mature  quietly  his  powers  of  execution,  without  seeking  to  alter  his  style,  or  to  improve 
the  quality  of  his  realism.  Had  he  died  during  his  first  visit  to  Rome,  it  might  have 
been  supposed,  without  absurdity,  that  he  had  said  his  last  word,  and  that,  young  as 
he  was,  he  had  lived  to  see  his  art  fullv  ripened.  It  would  be  difficult,  indeed,  to  do 
anything  finer,  with  piecemeal  realism  for  an  ideal,  than  the  later  works  of  this  first 
period.    .    .    . 

The  conversation  and  example  of  Rubens,  the  study  of  Italian  galleries,  as  well  as 
the  practice  of  palatial  decoration  at  Buen  Retiro,  gave  a  decorative  character  to  the  art 
of  Velasquez  in  the  second  period.  One  tastes  a  flavor  of  Venetian  art  in  the  subject- 
pictures,  and  one  remarks  something  bold,  summary,  and  less  intimate  than  usual,  about 


26  Sr^a^tcr^in^rt 

the  ponraiture  of  this  time.  During  these  twenty  years,  if  ever,  Velasquez  relaxed  his 
eiFort  at  naturalism, —  not  that  he  slackened  his  grip  upon  form,  but  that  he  seems  to 
have  accepted  in  Italy  the  necessity  for  professional  picture-making.  His  colors  became 
a  shade  more  positive  or  less  bathed  in  light,  and  his  unity  to  some  extent  an  adopted 
decorative  convention. 

Upon  his  return  from  the  second  voyage  to  Italy,  as  if  he  had  satisfied  himself  that 
Venetian  art  could  not  wholly  render  his  manner  of  seeing,  and  that,  at  any  rate,  he 
had  pushed  it,  in  the  "Surrender  of  Breda,"  as  far  as  it  could  go,  he  comes  about 
once  more,  and  seeks  for  dignity  and  unity  in  the  report  of  his  own  eyes.  In  fact  he 
adds  the  charm  that  we  call  impressionism  to  such  work  of  the  third  period  as  **Inno- 
icent  X.,"  done  in  Rome,  **The  Maids  of  Honor,"  "The  Tapestry  Weavers," 
l"^sop,"  "Moenippus,"  the  "Infanta  Maria  Theresa,"  "Philip  IV."  (National 
Gallery  ),  and  some  of  the  Dwarfs  and  Imbeciles  in  the  Prado,    .    .    , 

In  his  lat«r  art,  Velasquez  never  painted  a  wide  view  as  he  would  a  narrow  one, 
nor  a  simple  subject  as  a  complicated  one.  When  he  painted  a  wide  angle  of  sight,  he 
either  concentrated  himself  on  a  point,  or  steeped  his  whole  canvas  equally  in  a  soft 
envelope  of  light.  Indeed,  whatever  he  painted,  he  always  painted  the  quality  of  his 
attention  to  the  scene,  and,  in  virtue  of  that  principle,  his  best  pictures  never  look  spotty, 
and  never  tempt  one  to  cut  them  up  into  gem-like  bits.  His  ensemble  is  alwavs  equally 
easy  to  grasp,  whether  he  paints  great  groups  like  "  The  Maids  of  Honor  "  and  "  The 
Tapestry  Weavers,"  solitary  full-lengths  like  "  Mcenippus  "  and  "^sop,"  costume- 
portraits  like  "  Maria  Theresa,"  or  simple  busts  like  the  head  of  Philip. 

But  if  the  art  of  all  these  pictures  is  based  on  the  same  principles,  the  technique  is 
very  different  in  them  all.  You  may  note  a  wonderful  variety  in  Velasquez's  stvle  of 
modelHng  a  head,  not  only  in  different  periods  of  his  life,  but  in  pictures  of  the  same 
period,  and,  what  is  more,  in  heads  on  the  same  canvas.  Some  heads  are  modelled  very 
broadly  and  softly,  without  a  sharp  mark,  a  hard  edge,  or  small,  steep  planes.  The 
surfaces  slide  into  each  other  in  a  loose,  supple  manner,  that  almost  makes  them  look  as 
if  they  were  shaped  in  jelly  or  fluid.  Some  consist  of  bold,  rough-hewn  planes  which 
give  a  face  the  force  and  vigor  of  firm  chiselling.  Others,  again,  are  completed  to  show 
the  finest  niceties  of  shape  and  inclination,  with  an  intimacy  of  feeling  and  a  delicacy  of 
proportion  that  no  man  has  ever  equalled.  The  handling  is  alwavs  discreet  and  inspired 
by  the  necessities  of  the  occasion;  neither  does  it  follow  a  determined  pattern,  which 
might  impart  a  frozen  and  artificial  look,  nor  does  it  seek  an  effect  of  bravura  dexter- 
ity which  might  arrogate  an  undue  share  of  attention  and  interest.  Although  no  certain 
rule  can  be  laid  down,  generally  speaking  Velasquez  inclines  to  brush  in  the  obvious 
direction  of  the  forms,  so  as  to  supplement  tone  and  structure  by  the  sentiment  of  the 
execution.  In  many  cases,  however,  he  smudges  so  subtly  as  to  convey  no  sense  of 
direct  handling.  The  limb  or  object  treated  seems  to  grow  mysteriously  out  of  dusky 
depths  and  to  be  shaped  by  real  light. 

His  impulse  to  arrange  a  canvas  grew  out  of  the  scene  before  his  eyes.  His  severe 
and  stately  color  is  founded  on  nature.  His  execution  becomes  quiet  and  exact,  or 
burly  and  impetuous,  as  the  occasion  demands.  More  than  any  other  man's,  his  work 
convinces  us  that  he  knew  what  he  saw,  and  was  incapable  of  self-deception;  it  is 
wholly  free  from  haphazard  passages,  treacly  approximations  to  tone,  or  clever  tricks 
and  processes  that  evade  rather  than  resolve  a  difficulty.  Above  all,  his  art  is  interest- 
ing without  the  extravagance  which  may  kindle  a  momentary  excitement,  but  is  apt  to 
die  of  satiety  from  its  very  violence.  The  restrained  force  and  dignity  of  Velasquez 
inspire  one  with  reverence  and  lasting  respect;  one  cannot  easily  fathom  the  depth  of 
his  insight  nor  weary  of  his  endless  variety. 


t^elajBfquc5  27 

LEON     BONNAT  I'REFACE     TO     "VELAZQUEZ,"      BY     A.     DE      BERUETE 

VELASQUEZ  is  a  true  master.  If  he  has  rivals,  none  is  his  superior.  Not  one 
among  his  contemporaries  overshadows  his  glorv.  Compare  him  with  the  most 
illustrious,  with  Rembrandt  for  example  —  Rembrandt  the  might v  magician,  who  makes 
his  people  live  in  an  atmosphere  of  his  own  invention,  who  creates  an  entire  world  in 
his  powerful  imagination,  moulds  it,  gives  it  light  and  color,  as  he  feels  it  to  be,  goes 
where  his  genius  wills,  and  produces  the  wonderful  masterpieces  of  which  we  never 
weary.  There  is  nothing  of  this  kind  with  Velasquez.  What  the  Spanish  master  seeks 
above  all  is  character  and  truth.  He  is  a  realist  in  the  broadest  and  best  acceptation  of 
the  word.  He  paints  nature  as  he  sees  her  and  as  she  is.  The  air  that  he  breathes  is 
our  own,  his  sky  is  that  under  which  we  live.  His  portraits  impress  us  with  the  same 
feeling  that  we  have  when  in  the  presence  of  living  beings. 

And  he  goes  his  own  way,  this  great  painter.  In  his  loftv,  perhaps  unconscious,  se- 
renity he  does  not  allow  himself  to  be  turned  bv  any  one  from  the  path  which  he  has 
marked  out  for  himself,  which  his  genius  has  revealed  to  him.  Rubens,  the  illustrious 
Rubens,  who  arrived  at  Madrid  with  the  prestige  of  an  ambassador,  with  a  halo  of 
glorv,  universally  renowned;  Rubens,  to  whom  Velasquez  lent  his  studio,  whom  he 
conducted  to  the  Escorial  by  order  of  the  King,  whom  he  saw  paint  an  incredible  num- 
ber of  masterpieces,  —  Rubens  himself,  notwithstanding  his  resplendent  genius,  notwith- 
standing his  inexhaustible  fertilitv  of  production,  had  no  influence  over  Velasquez.  The 
Spanish  painter  remained  true  to  the  tradition  of  his  race.  As  he  was  before  the  com- 
ing of  the  Flemish  master,  even  so  he  remained  after  his  departure;  and  posterity,  with 
all  gratitude,  bows  before  his  powerful  originality.       from  the  French. 

E.     R.     PENNELL         "VELASQUEZ     IN     MADRID,"     "THE     NATION,"    VOL.     59 

VELASQUEZ,  according  to  popular  misconception,  was  an  uncompromising  real- 
ist, a  verv  Zola  among  painters;  therefore  the  illogical  conclusion  is  drawn  that 
beauty  of  color  and  rhvthm  of  line  were  without  his  scope,  beyond  his  reach.  But  be- 
cause—  except  when  he  was  painting  pure  landscape — he  emancipated  himself  from 
conventions  outworn  and  dead,  and  expressed  himself  in  terms  entirely  personal,  it 
need  not  follow  that  he  defied  the  essential  conditions  and  restrictions  of  all  art;  because 
he  presented  a  subject  as  no  other  man  would,  and  recorded  character  as  no  other  man 
could,  it  is  not  necessarv  to  see  in  him  but  the  submissive  slave  of  nature.  To  a  man 
of  his  temperament,  unquestioning  obedience  to  tradition  was  impossible;  to  a  painter 
of  his  vision,  truth  was  not  to  be  disregarded;  to  an  artist  of  his  genius,  nature  could 
offer  but  "slovenlv  suggestions."   .    .    . 

That  he  could  grasp  the  salient  characteristics  of  the  thing  or  person  he  painted  as 
no  one  had  done  before,  or  has  done  since,  his  portraits  establish  beyond  a  doubt.  The 
face  of  his  Philip,  with  its  strange  pallor  and  full  Austrian  lips,  is  as  familiar  to  us  as 
that  of  an  intimate  friend;  his  Infantas  and  Admirals  and  Dwarfs,  once  seen,  are  never 
forgotten.  Though  Ribera's  or  Murillo's  saints  bear  a  strong  family  likeness,  though 
among  Titian's  goddesses  the  one  scarce  differs  from  the  next,  Velasquez's  men  and 
women  have  each  his,  or  her,  own  complexion  and  color,  varying  from  the  blood- 
less Philip  to  the  swarthy  ^sop.  The  same  flesh  tints,  once  mixed  upon  his  palette, 
never  served  for  all  his  heads,  as  the  wonderflil  group  in  the  foreground  of  the  "Sur- 
render of  Breda  "  triumphantly  testifies.  But  his  innovations,  more  startling  to  his  age 
than  to  ours,  and  his  study  of  truth,  which  has  gained  for  him  the  name  of  naturalist, 
did  not  leave  him  indifferent  to  the  larger  aspects,  the  more  legitimate  functions  of  art. 
It  is  the  great  glorv  of  the  Prado  that  it  contains  canvas  after  canvas  to  bear  witness  to 
the  skill  with  which,  from  nature's  vaguest  hint,  he  could  create  a  rare  arrangement  of 
color,  a  rare  scheme  of  decoration. 


28  a^ajeftenefin^rt 

So  long  as  his  sense  of  color  betrays  itself  only  in  a  bit  of  brown  drapery,  as  in  "  The 
Topers,"  or  in  a  crimson  sash,  as  in  the  equestrian  *' Philip"  and  "Don  Baltasar, " 
there  is  nothing  to  bewilder.  It  is  when  he  has  filled  his  picture,  not  merely  with  spots 
of  beautiful  color,  but  vith  an  exquisite  harmony,  that  the  artless,  to  whom  the  folds 
of  blue  mantle  over  saintly  shoulders  or  the  sweep  of  red  cloak  in  mythological  land- 
scape mean  color,  cry  out  and  denounce  him  as  no  idealist.  But,  though  they  have  not 
eves  to  see  it,  half  the  charm  of  the  "  Surrender  of  Breda  "  is  in  the  stirring  symphony 
in  green  and  blue  which  nature,  unaided,  could  never  have  produced;  half  the  strength 
of  "  Vulcan's  Forge  "  in  the  subdued  browns  and  gold  vividly  imagined,  not  actually 
seen;  half  the  loveliness  of"  The  Maids  of  Honor  "  in  the  tender  greys  and  greens,  car- 
ried with  such  matchless  subtlety  from  the  walls  (which  prepare  the  way  for  the  serene 
neutral  tints  of  the  modern  master-decorator)  to  the  silken  gowns  stretched  over  hoops 
which  he  alone  knew  how  to  make  beautiful  in  their  stiff  ugliness.  As  if  to  emphasize 
the  meagreness  of  the  means  by  which  he  obtained  his  effects,  he  has  painted  himself  in 
this  picture,  holding  in  his  hand  his  palette.  Umbers  and  siennas,  red  and  white  and 
black,  are  the  colors  laid  upon  it.  Again,  so  long  as  he  seems  content  with  a  grandiose 
simplicity  of  arrangement,  as  in  those  royal  portraits  where  a  curtain,  a  chair,  and  a 
table  of  almost  photographic  primness  are  his  sole  resources,  the  unintelligent  deplore 
his  relentless  realism,  his  disdain  of  all  decorative  conventions.  And  once  having  called 
him  a  realist,  they  refuse  to  recognize  the  grandeur  of  composition  in  the  equestrian 
portraits,  with  their  wide  landscapes  and  sweeping  and  majestic  lines  that  render  useless 
the  stale  old  device  of  people  and  houses  in  the  middle  distance  to  bring  out  the  dignity 
and  bigness  of  horse  and  rider.  They  refuse  to  see  more  than  a  bald  record  of  facts  in 
the  impressive  array  of  lances  which  break  up  the  expanse  of  clouded  sky  and  give  their 
name  to  the  picture  of  the  "  Surrender  of  Breda;  "  more  than  the  result  of  chance  in  the 
treatment  of  tapestry  and  the  three  enchanting  little  figures  in  the  background  of  "The 
Tapestry  Weavers;  "  and  of  all  the  sixtv-odd  canvases  in  the  Prado,  it  is  invariablv 
upon  "The  Maids  of  Honor  "  they  hit  as  proof  positive  of  the  haphazard  element  in 
his  method.  But  what  if  the  grouping  were,  as  is  said,  the  outcome  of  Philip's  desire 
to  have  the  scene  before  him,  as  he  sat  for  his  portrait,  transferred  to  canvas  —  the  lit- 
tle Infanta  Margarita,  attended  by  her  maids  of  honor,  its  centre,  the  painter  himself  at 
his  easel  a  prominent  feature.?  If  he  owed  his  subject  to  the  caprice  of  a  King,  the  paint- 
er's invention  could  still  force  materials  so  unpromising  to  yield  a  noble  harmony  of  form 
as  of  color.  The  arrangement  in  "The  Maids  of  Honor  "  is  so  perfect  in  its  subtlety, 
so  well-balanced  in  its  parts,  so  tranquil  and  lovely  as  a  whole,  that,  even  if  the  color 
were  less  beautiful,  the  atmospheric  effects  less  true,  one  could  still  understand  why 
Luca  Giordano  thought  to  find  in  this  picture  "  the  theology  of  painting  "  — the  poetry 
of  painting  would  better  have  expressed  his  meaning.  Before  such  masterpieces,  won- 
der at  the  virile  and  personal  presentment  of  truth  in  the  work  of  Velasquez  is  forgotten 
for  delight  in  its  glory  of  color,  its  splendor  of  decoration;  and  these  are  qualities  found 
in  their  fiill  perfection  only  in  the  pictures  of  the  Prado. 

WALTER    ARMSTRONG     "THE     ART     OF    VELASQUEZ,"     "PORTFOLIO,"    1896 

VELASQUEZ  is  the  most  objective  of  all  great  painters,  and  his  art  consists  more 
exclusively  than  any  one  else's  of  interpretation  carried  to  the  highest  point.  As 
for  his  technique,  it  followed  a  simple  course  of  evolution  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end.  His  object  from  first  to  last  was  truth  to  his  impressions.  Like  those  of  other  peo- 
ple, these  were  bald  at  first,  and  their  realization  laborious.  As  time  went  on  he  saw 
more,  and  made  the  necessary  distinctions  with  a  more  unerring  ease.  But  he  never 
ceased  to  be  satisfied  with  seeing  and  putting  down  what  he  saw.    His  authentic  works 


are  free  from  the  slightest  tendency  to  substitute  cleverness  for  truth.  He  never  **  faked. ' ' 
His  drawing  scarcely  deserves  its  reputation  for  correctness,  indeed  many  ot  his  pictures 
are  curiously  out  in  this  respect;  but  it  always  strikes  that  note  of  sincerity  which  is 
better  than  precision. 

His  cardinal  quality,  however,  was  his  extraordinary  facility  in  seeing  and  reproduc- 
ing every  relation  between  tones.  He  threads  his  way  through  whole  processions  of 
values  with  so  convinced  a  certainty  that  we  ask  for  nothing  more.  We  put  the  s:ime 
faith  in  his  statements  as  we  do  in  those  of  Shakespeare.  What  Shakespeare  does  tor 
the  inner  man  Velasquez  does  for  his  form  and  envelope  as  he  stands  in  the  upper  air. 
And  he  does  it  with  the  same  gravity,  the  same  sanity,  the  same  utter  absence  of  pose 
or  self-assertion.  The  idea  never  enters  his  head  that  his  own  individual  trick  with  the 
brush  could  have  an  interest  for  any  human  being.  He  paints  now  staccato,  now  with 
a  smeary  drag,  just  as  the  task  before  him  suggests.  He  never  steps  forward  and  makes 
his  own  personality  the  centre  of  his  own  performance.  His  aim  was  the  dignified  in- 
terpretation of  nature, — of  nature  arranged  and  brought  into  agreeable  juxtapositions, 
no  doubt,  but  not  of  nature  bedizened,  or  cajoled,  or  forced;  and  in  making  for  it  he 
took  the  surest  and  most  simple,  if  not  always  the  shortest  route.  His  imagination  had 
reserves  into  which  we  get  a  hasty  glance  now  and  then,  but  either  through  intellectual 
indolence,  or  a  deliberate  conviction  in  favor  of  restricting  paint  to  the  interpretation  of 
what  the  painter  can  set  up  in  front  of  him,  his  creative  fancy  was  very  seldom  allowed 
to  substitute  itself  for  the  results  of  memory  and  observation.    .    .    . 

No  great  painter  has  left  less  ot  himself  outside  his  work  than  \^elasquez;  and  vet  of 
ail  those  who  have  built  up  the  commanding  fabric  of  modern  art,  he  seems  by  far  the 
nearest  to  ourselves. 

KEN  YON      cox  "THE     NATION,"     VOL.     49 

VELASQUEZ  had  an  idealizing  power  of  his  own,  but  it  lay  in  his  intense  per- \ 
ception  of  truth  and  beautv  of  light.  Here  he  was  the  innovator  and  the  unap- 
proachable master.  He  was  the  first  to  see  and  to  paint  light  and  air,  the  first  painter 
of  aspects,  the  great  and  true  impressionist.  In  his  greatest  works,  "The  Maids  of 
Honor  "  and  *'  The  Tapestry  Weavers,"  the  figures  seem  mereJy  incidents,  while  the 
true  subject  is  the  light  that  plays  upon  them,  and  the  air  in  front  of  them  and  around 
them;  and  by  the  delicate  ordonnance  and  balancing  of  these  elements  he  produces  a 
composition  as  truly  ideal  as  the  grand  arrangements  ot  line  or  splendid  harmonies  ot 
color  of  the  Florentines  or  Venetians.  With  the  Dutchmen  and  with  Velasquez  mod- 
ern painting  begins,  but  Velasquez  is  more  essentially  modern  than  the  Dutchmen. 
The  powerful  chiaroscuro  of  Rembrandt  would  have  seemed  exaggerated  to  him,  and 
Terburg's  detailed  insistence  upon  tangible  fact  would  have  seemed  petty.  He  was  the 
great  discoverer  o'i  values;  and  to  him  the  just  amount  of  light  upon  an  object  and  the 
exact  quantity  of  air  between  it  and  the  spectator — it*  appearance  at  a  given  distance 
and  under  a  given  effect — this  was  the  one  thing  about  it  worth  painting,  and  this  he 
painted  as  perhaps  no  man  has  done  since. 

PAUL     LEFORT  "VELAZQUEZ" 

VELASQUEZ  may  be  regarded  as  a  precursor,  an  initiator,  of  the  modern  school 
ot  painting.  In  his  manner  of  interpreting  lite,  in  his  just  observation  of  the  laws 
of  light,  in  his  habitually  clear  and  simple  method  of  representation,  as  well  as  in  his 
technique,  —  so  novel  and  so  original  even  nowadays, —  Velasquez  marks  such  an  ad- 
vance upon  the  art  ot  his  time  that  he  seems  rather  to  belong  to  our  own.  The  striking 
relief  and  perfect  solidity  with  which  he  endows  natural  objects,  the  marvellous  envel- 


30  a^a^ter^in^rt 

opment  of  air  with  which  he  surrounds  them,  gives  such  a  peculiar  intensitv  of  illusion 
and  appearance  of  life  to  his  work,  that,  comparing  it  with  the  productions  of  even  our 
boldest  realists,  we  are  tempted  to  exclaim  that  this  painter  of  Philip  IV.  speaks  not 
only  the  language  of  the  painter  of  to-day,  but  that  of  the  painter  of  the  future, —  a 
language  so  completely  formulated,  so  definite  and  so  perfected  by  this  master  of  two 
centuries  ago,  that  we  may  sav,  and  without  injustice,  that  even  our  impressionists — • 
the  advance  guard  ot  the  modern  school  —  have  as  vet  scarce  learned  to  lisp  it. —  from 

THE   FRENCH. 


Cije  ^panisil)  ^ci)ool  of  fainting 

1446   TO    1874 

THE  early  art  of  Spain,  unlike  that  of  Italy,  is  marked  by  no  clear  and  gradual 
dawn,  and  what  may  have  been  its  beginnings  is  largely  a  matter  of  conjecture. 
The  struggles  of  the  country  for  political  existence,  as  well  as  the  frequent  contests  with 
the  Moors,  tended  to  retard  its  artistic  development;  and  little  is  to  be  found  which 
antedates  the  fourteenth  centurv.  Even  the  paintings  of  that  and  of  the  following  cen- 
tury are  for  the  most  part  but  feeble  imitations  of  the  works  of  Italian  and  Flemish 
masters.  In  method  and  technique,  indeed,  the  Spanish  school  was  more  derivative  than 
original,  being  strongly  influenced  bv  both  Italv  and  the  Netherlands;  but  in  spirit  it 
was,  from  the  beginning,  peculiarly  Spanish,  reflecting  in  the  sombre  tone  of  coloring 
which  prevails,  and  in  the  absence  of  that  poetical  imagination  which  charms  us  in  the 
examples  of  early  Italian  art,  the  national  characteristics  of  the  race. 

The  powerflil  influence  of  the  Church,  the  narrow  bigotry  of  the  people  and  their 
rulers,  and  the  terrors  of  the  Inquisition,  have  all  left  their  impress.  Classic  art  was 
unknown,  study  of  the  nude  was  forbidden,  and  with  the  earlv  painters,  many  of  whom 
were  fervent  to  fanaticism,  it  was  the  religious  subject  which  prevailed,  not,  however, 
so  mildly  devout  and  pietistic  in  expression  as  passionate,  emotional  and  often  morose, 
ghastly,  and  horrible. 

With  the  accession  to  the  throne  of  Charles  V.  in  i  5  1 6,  and  the  advance  in  polit- 
ical importance  of  the  kingdom,  Spanish  painting  received  a  decided  impetus.  Italv  and 
the  Netherlands  were  opened  to  his  subjects,  and  not  onlv  did  it  become  customary  for 
Spanish  artists  to  go  to  Rome,  Florence,  and  Venice  to  study  under  the  great  Italian 
masters,  but  painters  from  Italv  and  Flanders,  attracted  by  reports  of  royal  favor  and 
munificence,  frequently  visited  the  Spanish  court. 

The  influence  of  Flanders,  however,  which  in  the  fifteenth  centurv  had  been  the  pre- 
dominating one,  was  now,  in  the  sixteenth,  superseded  bv  that  of  Italv.  The  drawing 
of  the  Florentine  masters,  the  color  of  the  Venetians,  and  the  light  and  shade  of  the 
Neapolitans  became  standards,  and  it  was  under  the  Italian  artists  settled  in  Spain  and 
the  Spaniards  who  had  studied  in  Italv  that  the  school  which  is  known  as  "Spanish  " 
mav  be  said  to  have  come  into  being. 

It  was  not  until  towards  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  centurv  that  Spanish  painting 
began  to  be  represented  in  a  national  manner,  and  methods  founded  on  nature  pre- 
vailed. This  was  the  period  when  painting  in  Spain  attained  its  highest  development, 
—  the  period  when  the  two  most  illustrious  artists  flourished, —  Bartolome  Esteban 
Murillo,  the  greatest  religious  painter  of  Spain,  and  always  one  of  the  most  popular, 
not  only  in  his  own  but  in  other  countries,  and  Diego  Rodriguez  de  Silva  Velasquez, 
who  stands  pre-eminentlv  first  in  the  historv  of  Spanish  painting. 

One  of  the  few  who  were  able  to  free  themselves  from  the  voke  of  the  Church, 


I^tla^qnt^  31 

Velasquez  is,  in  the  broadest  meaning  of  the  word,  a  realist.  He  is  the  greatest  and 
most  original  painter  that  Spain  has  produced.  But,  although  acknowledged  even  by 
his  contemporaries  to  be  the  first  among  Spanish  painters,  and  without  a  rival  as  he  was 
in  the  favor  of  the  King  and  court,  Velasquez  had  nevertheless  but  few  immediate 
scholars.  His  son-in-law,  Juan  Battista  del  Mazo,  his  slave  and  afterwards  freedman, 
Juan  de  Pareja,  and  his  successor  in  court  favor,  Carreno  de  Miranda,  are  all  that 
achieved  distinction. 

The  golden  period  of  Spanish  painting  came  to  an  end  before  the  close  of  the  seven- 
teenth centurv,  and  for  more  than  a  hundred  years  no  artist  of  eminence  appeared. 
Not  until  the  advent  of  Francisco  Goya  (1746—1828),  a  painter  of  ability  and  origi- 
nality, was  the  decline  of  Spanish  art  even  temporarily  checked. 

It  may  with  truth  be  said  that  among  the  painters  of  to-day  —  the  modern  French 
painters  and  their  fellow  artists  in  Europe  and  in  this  country  —  are  found  the  real  fol- 
lowers and  scholars  of  the  great  Spanish  master,  Velasquez. 

MEMBERS     OF     THE     SPANISH     SCHOOL 

ANTONIO  DEL  RINCON,  1 446-1  500  —  Alonso  Beruguete,  1480-1 561 —Luis  de 
Vargas,  1502-68 — Juan  de  Juanes  (Vicente  Joanes),  1506—79  —  Luisde  Morales,  about 
15  10-86 —  Alonso  Sanchez  Cocllo, about  1512—90  —  Gasper  Becerra,  i  520-70 — Juan  Fer- 
nandez Navarette, called  "  El  Mudo,"  1526—79- — -Francisco  de  Ribalta, about  1550— 1628  — 
Juande  lasRoelas,  1558— 1625  —  Francisco  Pacheco,  1 571  — 1654 — -  Francisco  de  Herrerathe 
elder,  born  1576,  and  his  son  known  as  Francisco  "  El  Mozo  "  —  Eugenio  Caxes,  1 577— 1 642 
—  Josef  de  Ribera,  called  "Lo  Spagnoletto,"  1588—1656 — Juan  de  Ribalta,  1597-1628 
■ — Francisco  Zurbaran,  1598-1662  —  Diego  Rodriguez  dc  Silva  Velasquez,  1599-1660 
• — Francisco  Collantes,  1599— 1656  —  Espinosa,  1600-80  —  Alonso  Cano,  1601—67  — 
Juan  Carreiio  de  Miranda,  1614-85 — Bartolome  Esteban  Murillo,  1618-82 — Juan 
de  Valdes,  1630-91 — Claudio  Coello,  1635—93  —  Francisco  Goya,  1746— 1828  —  Mari- 
ano Fortuny,  1838—74. 


C|)e  Woxk^  of  19"elasque? 

DESCRIPTIONS     OF     THE     PLATES 
"DON      FERDINAND     OF     AUSTRIA"  THE     PRADO:     MADRID 

THIS  picture  is  the  onlv  known  portrait  by  Velasquez  of  Don  Ferdinand,  young- 
est brother  of  Philip  IV.    It  was  painted  probably  about  1628,  when  the  prince 
was  nineteen  years  old,  but  shows  traces  of  retouching  by  the  master  at  a  later  period. 
Ferdinand  was  an  enthusiastic  sportsman,  and  is  here  represented  in  hunting-costume, 
standing  with  his  dog  under  an  oak-tree.    The  landscape,  showing  a  Sierra  in  the  dis- 
tance, is  in  a  cool  light  blue-grey  tone,  and  is  treated  with  breadth  and  freedom. 

•'THE     TOPERS"  THE     PRADO:      MADRID 

"  ''  I  ^HE  Topers  "  ("  Los  Borrachos  ")  was  paintea  by  Velasquez  for  the  King  in 
A  1628  or  '29,  just  before  the  artist's  first  visit  to  Italy,  and  is  one  of  the  finest 
examples  of  his  early  manner.  The  scene  is  a  bacchanalian  revel,  in  which  the  youth- 
fill  wine-god,  crowned  with  leaves  and  enthroned  on  a  cask,  is  surrounded  by  his  vota- 
ries. The  brightest  light  is  centred  on  his  figure,  the  white  flesh  tints  contrasting 
strongly  with  the  swarthy  heads  of  the  group  of  Spanish  peasants. 

"Whoever  would  form  an  opinion  of  the  artist's  treatment  of  the  nude,"  writes 
Professor  Justi,  "should  study  this  youthful,  soft,  yet  robust  figure  of  Bacchus.    The 


32  ^  a0ttt  ^    in    ^tt 

outstretched  arm,  the  projecting  knee,  the  lower  leg  with  the  light  of  the  red  mantle 
reflected  upon  it,  all  show  that  Velasquez  had  scarcely  anything  more  to  learn  in  this 
direction."  *'  No  brush,"  says  Gautier,  "  has  modelled  flesh  more  finely,  has  painted 
it  with  more  soup /esse,  or  made  it  seem  so  living." 

"JUANADE      MIRANDA"  BERLIN      GALLERY 

THE  Berlin  Gallery  has  lately  acquired  this  portrait  by  Velasquez,  believed  to  be 
that  of  his  wife,  Juana  de  Miranda.    This  name  is  inscribed  on  the  back  of  the 
canvas  in  an  old  style  of  writing. 

The  lady  wears  a  flowered  black  velvet  gown  over  which  hangs  a  long,  heavy,  gold 
chain.  A  diamond  ornament  is  in  her  auburn  hair,  which  towers  high  above  her  fore- 
head. Her  eyes  are  brown  and  deep-set,  her  cheeks  faintly  tinged  with  red  —  a  gen- 
uinely Spanish  face.  "She  has  the  easy  attitude  ot  refined  culture,"  writes  Justi,  "al- 
though the  proud  bearing,  the  firm  grasp  of  the  red  chair,  and  the  expression  seem  to 
betray  more  character  than  is  seen  in  the  royal  ladies.  Assuredly  no  one  can  look  at 
this  portrait  without  a  feeling  of  regret  that  Velasquez  should  have  been  prevented  by 
the  prejudice  of  his  country  from  leaving  us  more  specimens  of  his  skill  in  this  branch 
of  portraiture. " 

««DON  BALTASAR   CARLOS  ON   HORSEBACK"       THE  PRADO:   MADRID 

THE  Infante  Don  Baltasar  Carlos,  son  of  Philip  IV.  and  his  first  wife,  Isabella  of 
Bourbon,  was  born  on  October  i  7,  1629,  and  died  when  he  was  seventeen  years 
old.  Velasquez  painted  the  young  prince  many  times.  The  portrait  in  the  Prado, 
Madrid,  here  reproduced,  was  taken  when  the  boy  was  in  his  seventh  year. 

"  Never  in  his  whole  career,"  writes  Walter  Armstrong,  "  did  Velasquez  equal  this 
picture  in  spontaneous  vitality  or  in  splendor  of  color.  Intellectually  the  motive  is  abso- 
lutely simple.  The  boy  gallops  past  at  an  angle  which  brings  him  into  the  happiest 
proportion  with  his  mount.  His  attitude  is  the  natural  one  for  a  pupil  of  Philip  and 
Olivares,  two  of  the  best  horsemen  in  Europe;  his  look  and  gesture  express  just  the 
degree  of  pride,  delight  and  desire  for  approval  which  charm  in  a  child.  Through  all 
this  Velasquez  has  worked  for  simplicity.  He  has  been  governed  by  the  sincere  desire 
to  paint  the  boy  as  he  was,  with  no  parade  or  afi^ectation.  That  done,  he  has  turned 
his  attention  to  the  esthetic  effect.  The  mane  and  tail  of  the  Andalusian  pony,  the 
boy's  rich  costume  and  his  flying  scarf,  and  the  splendid  browns,  blues,  and  greens  of 
the  landscape  background  make  up  a  decorative  whole,  as  rich  and  musical  as  any 
Titian." 

"POPE      INNOCENT     X."  DOR I A     GALLERY:      ROME 

**^T~^HE  second  sojourn  of  Velasquez  in  Rome,"  writes  Walter  Armstrong,  "is 
A  illumined  in  his  artistic  career  by  the  production  of  one  of  his  most  extraordi- 
nary pictures.  Innocent  X.  decided  to  honor  the  Spaniard  by  sitting  for  his  portrait. 
The  Pope  was  at  this  time  seventy-four  years  of  age,  but  contemporaries  describe  him 
as  having  preserved  in  an  unusual  degree  that  air  of  commanding  vigor  suggested  by  the 
master.  The  seated  figure  is  turned  slightly  to  the  left,  and  the  strong  sinister  face  con- 
fronts the  spectator  with  a  look  in  which  cunning,  secretiveness,  and  a  touch  of  sensu- 
ality are  combined.  The  reds  of  the  cap,  the  robe,  and  the  chair,  and  the  Pope's  own 
ruddy  flesh-tones,  are  reinforced  by  the  crimson  of  the  curtain  behind  him.'' 

We  are  told  that  when  the  Pope  sent  his  chamberlain  to  pay  the  painter,  Velasquez 
refused  to  accept  the  money,  saying  that  the  King,  his  master,  always  paid  him  with 
his  own  hand.    The  Pope,  it  is  said,  humored  him. 


l^elnjBfquc^  33 

<«THE     TAPESTRY      WEAVERS"  THE     PRADO:      iMADRID 

"  ^  I  ''HE  Tapestry  Weavers  "  (**  Las  Hilanderas  ")  vva3  painted  probably  in  1656. 
X  It  represents  a  room  in  the  royal  tapestry  works  of  Madrid,  where,  in  the  mys- 
terious half-light  of  the  foreground,  an  elderly  woman  and  four  young  girls  are  spinning, 
winding,  and  carding  wool.  In  a  raised  alcove,  brightly  illumined  by  a  broad  beam  ot 
sunshine,  some  visitors  are  inspecting  a  piece  of  tapestry. 

J.  F.  White  in  writing  of  this  picture  says:  "  The  subject  is  nothing,  the  treatment 
everything.  It  is  full  of  light,  air,  and  movement,  splendid  in  color,  and  marvellous  in 
handling.  We  see  in  it  the  full  ripeness  of  the  power  of  Velasquez,  a  concentration  of 
all  the  art-knowledge  he  had  gathered  during  his  long  artistic  career  of  more  than  forty 
years.  In  no  picture  is  he  greater  as  a  colorist.  The  scheme  is  simple, — a  harmonv 
of  red,  bluish-green,  grev,  and  black,  which  are  varied  and  blended  with  consummate 
skill." 

"Velasquez,"  savs  Pedro  de  Madrazo,  in  describing  this  work,  "is  not  only  a 
painter,  he  is  a  magician." 

•'THE      MAIDS      OF      HONOR"  THE      PRADO:      MADRID 

"  ^~T~^HE  Maids  of  Honor"  ("Las  Meninas"),  painted  in  1656,  belongs  to  the 
J.  period  of  the  highest  development  of  Velasquez's  genius.  The  scene  is  in  the 
painter's  studio  in  the  Old  Palace,  or  Alcazar,  of  Madrid. 

"  It  is  generally  said,"  writes  R.  A.  M.  Stevenson,  "that  Velasquez  was  painting 
the  king,  who  sat  in  the  spot  from  which  the  spectator  is  supposed  to  see  the  picture  of 
•Las  Meninas.'  During  a  moment's  rest  the  Infanta  Margarita  came  in  with  her  at- 
tendants, and  the  king  was  struck  with  the  group  which  fell  together  before  his  eyes. 
Near  him  he  saw  the  princess,  her  maids,  her  dog,  and  her  dwarfs;  a  little  farther  on 
the  left,  Velasquez,  who  had  stepped  back  to  look  at  his  picture;  farther  still  on  the 
right,  a  duenna  and  courtier  talking;  while  at  the  distant  end  of  the  gallery  the  king  saw 
his  queen  and  himself  reflected  in  a  mirror,  and,  through  the  open  door,  Don  Jose  Nieto 
drawing  back  a  curtain^  The  canvas  shown  in  the  picture  would  naturally  be  the  one 
on  which  Velasquez  was  painting  the  king's  portrait.  Some,  however,  will  have  it  to 
be  the  very  canvas  ot  'Las  Meninas,'  which  Velasquez  was  painting  from  a  reflec- 
tion in  a  mirror  placed  near  to  where  the  king  had  been  sitting.  It  is  not  a  matter  of 
importance,  and  the  story  of  the  conception  ot  the  picture  may  easily  have  got  mixed 
in  the  telling.  _  It  is  just  possible  that  Velasquez  was  painting,  or  was  about  to  paint,  a 
portrait  of  the  Infanta  onlv,  when  the  idea  of  the  large  picture  suddenly  occurred  to 
him  or  to  the  king.  Tradition  savs  that  the  red  cross  of  the  Order  ot  Santiago,  which 
you  can  see  on  the  painter's^  breast,  was  painted  there  by  the  king's  own  hand,  as  a 
promise  of  the  honor  that  was  to  be  conferred  on  him  afterwards." 

This  picture,  one  of  the  most  perfect  facsimiles  of  nature  ever  produced  by  art,  was 
pronounced  by  Luca  Giordano  to  be  "the  theologv  of  painting. "  "So  complete  is 
the  illusion,"  writes  Gautier,  "  that  standing  in  front  of  '  Las  Meninas  '  one  is  tempted 
to  ask,   *  Where  then  is  the  picture?  '  " 

"SURRENDER      OF     BREDA"  THE     PRADO:      MADRID 

BETWEEN  1645  and  1648,"  writes  Sir  William  Maxwell-Stirling,  "Velas- 
quez painted  his  noble  'Surrender  of  Breda,'  a  picture  executed  with  peculiar 
care,  perhaps  out  of  regard  for  the  memory  of  his  illustrious  friend  the  Marquis  of  Spi- 
nola,  who  died  a  victim  to  the  ingratitude  of  the  Spanish  court.  It  represents  that  great 
general — the  last  Spain  ever  had  —  in  one  of  the  proudest  moments  of  his  career,  re- 


34  a^a^ter^efin^rt 

ceiving,  in  1625,  the  keys  of  the  city  of  Breda  from  Prince  Justin  of  Nassau,  who  con- 
ducted the  obstinate  defence.  The  victor,  clad  in  mail,  and  remarkable  for  easy  dignity 
of  mien,  meets  his  vanquished  foe  hat  in  hand,  and  prepares  to  embrace  him  with  gen- 
erous cordiality.  Behind  the  leaders  stand  their  horses  and  attendants,  and  beyond  the 
staff  of  Spinola  there  is  a  line  of  pikemen,  whose  pikes,  striping  the  blue  sky,  have 
caused  the  picture  to  be  known  as  that  of  'The  Lances.'  " 

This  masterpiece  of  Velasquez's  middle  life,  and  one  of  the  finest  historical  pictures 
in  the  world,  was  painted  for  the  palace  of  Buen  Retiro,  and  now  hangs  in  the  Prado, 
Madrid.  The  appearance  of  immensit\'  which  is  given  bv  the  canvas  has  often  been 
remarked,  and  although  no  more  than  twenty  figures  are  in  sight,  we  have  the  impres- 
sion of  the  presence  of  an  army. 

<«PHILIP     IV."  NATIONAL     GALLERY:      LONDON 

THIS  portrait  of  Philip  IV.  of  Spain  was  painted  when  the  King  was  about  fifty 
years  of  age.  He  is  here  represented  in  black,  with  the  chain  of  the  order  of  the 
Golden  Fleece  around  his  neck,  and  wearing  the  golilla,  or  stiff,  projecting  collar 
which  he  had  himself  invented,  and  of  which  Madame  D'Aulnoy  tells  us  ("Voyage 
d'Espagne")  he  was  so  proud  that  he  celebrated  the  invention  by  a  festival,  followed 
by  a  procession  to  church  to  give  thanks  to  God  for  the  blessing. 

"  Faithful  in  {^-^n  things,"  writes  J.  F.  White,  *'  Philip  kept  true  to  Velasquez,  whom 
he  visited  daily  in  his  studio  in  the  palace,  and  to  whom  he  stood  in  many  attitudes  and 
costumes, — as  a  huntsman  with  his  dog,  as  a  warrior  in  command  of  his  troops,  and 
even  on  his  knees  at  prayer,  wearing  ever  the  same  dull,  uninterested  look.  His  pale 
face  and  lack-lustre  eye,  his  fair  flowing  hair  and  moustaches  curled  up  to  his  eyes,  and 
his  heavy,  projecting  Austrian  lip,  are  known  in  many  a  portrait,  and  nowhere  more 
supremely  than  in  this  wonderful  canvas,  where  he  seems  to  live  and  breathe.  Few 
portraits  in  the  whole  range  of  art  will  compare  with  this  work,  in  which  the  consum- 
mate handling  of  Velasquez  is  seen  at  its  best,  for  it  is  in  his  late,  and  most  perfect 
manner." 

"THE     INFANTA      MARIA     THERESA"  THE     PRADO:     MADRID 

THIS  picture,  entitled  "  Maria  Theresa,"  is  believed  by  Professor  Justi  and  other 
authorities  to  be  a  portrait  of  her  step-sister,  Margarita,  the  little  princess  of  "  The 
Maids  of  Honor. "  R.  A.  M.  Stevenson  writes:  "  She  stands  directly  facing  the  light, 
in  a  wonderfully  elaborate  balloon  dress,  embroidered  with  a  complicated  pattern  of 
silver  and  pink  and  gleaming  jewelry.  In  one  hand  she  holds  a  rose,  in  the  other  a  lace 
handkerchief,  and  on  the  left  behind  her,  in  the  shadow,  a  red  curtain  droops  in  heavy 
folds.  No  pupil  touched  the  smallest  accessory  of  this  extraordinary  costume;  lace, 
ruffles,  embroidery,  every  inch  of  the  dress  is  painted  by  Velasquez,  with  a  running 
slippery  touch  which  appears  careless  near  at  hand,  but  which  at  the  focus  gives  color, 
pattern,  sparkle,  and  underlying  form  with  the  utmost  precision  and  completeness.  The 
shadow  behind  the  figure  is  aerial  in  qualitv,  deep  but  not  heavy,  and  silvered  like  the 
passages  in  light,  so  that  black  would  tell  upon  it  as  a  rude  brutalitv  of  tone. " 

Velasquez's  principal  paintings,  with  their  present  locations 

BERLIN  Gallery:  The  Infanta  Maria,  Sister  of  Philip  IV.;  Portrait  of  Juana  de  Mi- 
randa (Plate  III);  Court  Dwarf;  Alessandro  del  Borro  —  Dresden,  Royal  Gallery: 
Portrait  of  Olivares;  Two  Male  Portraits  —  Dulvvich  Gallery:  Philip  IV.  —  Frankfort, 
Stadel  Institute:  Cardinal  Borgia  —  Florence,  Pitti  Palace:  Philip  IV.;  Portrait  of 


a  Man  —  Florence,  Uffiz'  Gallery:  Philip  IV.  on  Hdre'ey-ickV  Tv^;'b '.P^Jtoil'a  Jof  ; 
Velasquez  —  The  Hague,  Museum:  The  Infante  Don  Baltasar  Carlos;  Landscape—' 
Kingston  Lacy,  England,  Bankes  Collection:  "  Tapestry  Weavers  "  Sketch;  Cardi- 
nal Borgia — -London,  National  Gallery:  Philip  IV.  (Plate ix);  Philip  IV.;  The  Boar- 
Hunt;  Christ  at  the  Column;  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds;  Christ  in  the  House  of  Martha; 
Admiral  Pulido  Pareja  —  London,  Apsley  House:  Water-Carrier;  Two  Boys;  Portrait 
of  a  Man;  Pope  Innocent  X.;  Don  Francisco  de  Quevedo  y  Villegas  —  London,  Dudley 
House:  St.  Clara;  Portrait  of  a  Man  — London,  Hertford  House:  Philip  IV.;  Three 
Portraits  of  Don  Baltasar  Carlos;  Lady  with  a  Fan;  Portrait  of  Olivares;  Portrait  of  an 
Infanta;  Landscape  —  London,  Grosvenor  House:  The  Riding-School;  Portrait  of  Young 
Man- — -London,  Richmond  Hill:  Two  Peasants,  Kitchen  Scene;  Spanish  Beggar  — 
London,  Stafford  House:  St.  Charles  Borromeo;  St.  Francis  Borgia;  Landscape  — 
Madrid,  The  Escorial:  Joseph's  Coat  —  Madrid,  The  Prado:  Adoration  of  the  Magi; 
Christ  Crucified;  Coronation  of  the  Virgin;  St.  Anthony  Abbot  and  St.  Paul,  the  Her- 
mit; The  Topers  ("Los  Borrachos'')  (Plate  ii);  The  Forge  of  Vulcan;  Surrender  of 
Breda  ("Las  Lanzas")  (Plate  VIII);  Mercury  and  Argus;  Philip  III.  on  Horseback;  Mar- 
garita of  Austria,  Wife  of  Philip  III.,  on  Horseback;  Philip  IV.  on  Horseback;  Isabella  of 
Bourbon,  First  Wife  of  Philip  IV.,  on  Horseback;  Don  Baltasar  Carlos  on  Horseback 
(Plate  IV);  The  Count-Duke  Olivares  on  Horseback;  PhMip  IV.  Standmg;  Philip  IV.  in 
Armor;  Maria,  Queen  of  Hungary,  Sister  of  Philip  IV.;  Don  Carlos,  Brother  of  Philip 
IV.;  Don  Ferdinand,  Brother  of  Philip  IV.  (Plate  i);  Philip  IV.  in  Hunting-Costume; 
Don  Baltasar  Carlos  in  Hunting-Costume;  Philip  IV.  with  Sceptre;  Two  Portraits  of 
Mariana  of  Austria,  Second  Wife  of  Philip  IV.;  Philip  IV.;  Philip  IV.  at  Prayer;  Mariana 
of  Austria  at  Prayer;  Don  Baltasar  Carlos;  Infanta  Maria  Theresa,  Daughter  of  Philip  IV. 
(Plate  x);  The  Tapestry  Weavers  ("Las  Hllanderas")  (Plate  vi);  Don  Luis  de  Gongora 
y  Argote;  Juana  de  Miranda,  Wife  of  Velasquez;  Francisca,  Daughter  of  Velasquez;  The 
Sculptor  Martinez  Montaiies;  The  Maids  of  Honor  ("Las  Meninas")  (Plate  vii);  Don 
Antonio  Alonso  Pimentel;  ^sop;  Moenippus;  Mars;  Two  Male  Portraits;  Alfonso  Mar- 
tinez de  Espinar;  Pablillos  de  Valladolid,  a  Buffoon;  "El  Primo,"  a  Dwarf;  "El  Bobo 
de  Coria;"  "El  Nino  de  Vallecas;"  "Don  Antonio  el  Ingles,"  a  Dwarf;  Don  Sebastian 
de  Morro,  a  Dwarf;  Don  Juan  de  Austria,  a  Buffoon;  Babarroja,  a  Buffoon;  Ten  Land- 
scapes—  Munich  Gallery:  Portrait  of  Olivares— Paris,  Louvre:  The  Infanta  Mar- 
garita Maria;  Two  Portraits  of  Philip  IV.;  The  Infanta  Maria  Theresa;  "Reunion  de 
Portraits;"  Don  Pedro  de  Altamira — -Rokeby  Park,  England:  Venus  with  the  Mirror 
—  Rome,  Doria  Gallery:  Pope  Innocent  X.  (Plate  v)  —  Rome,  Capitoline  Gal- 
lery: Portrait  of  Velasquez  (Page  20)  —  Salisbury,  Longford  Castle:  Don  Adrian 
Pulido  Pareja;  Juan  de  Pareja  —  Stockholm  Museum:  Philip  IV.  —  St.  Petersburg, 
Hermitage  Gallery:  Pope  Innocent  X. — Vienna,  Imperial  Gallery:  Mariana  of 
Austria,  Second  Wife  of  Philip  IV. ;  Two  Portraits  of  Philip  IV. ;  Three  Portraits  of  the 
Infanta  Margarita  Maria;  The  Infante  Philip  Prosper;  Don  Baltasar  Carlos;  The  Iwfanta 
Maria  Theresa;  Isabella  of  Bourbon,  First  Wife  of  Philip  IV.;  Laughing  Boy  —  YoRK, 
England,  Castle  Howard:  Juan  de  Pareja;   Don  Baltasar  Carlos  and  His  Dwarf. 


A     LIST     01      THE     principal     BOOKS     AND     MAGAZINE 
articles      dealing     with     VELASQUEZ     AND      HIS      SCHOOL 

ASENSIO,  don  JOSE  MARIA  Y  TOLEDO.  Fr.  Pacheco  sus  obras  Artisticas. 
(Seville,  1867)  —  Bermudez,  Cean.  Diccionario  Historico.  (Madrid,  1800)  — 
Beruete,  A.  de.  Velazquez.  (Paris,  1898) — Blanc,  C.  Histoire  des  Peintres.  (Paris) 
—  Bosarte,    Viage  Artistico  a  varios  Pueblos  de  Espafia.    (Madrid,  1804)  —  Burger,  W. 


36  Htf^a^tctjEf    in    ^rt 

TrrpsoV-f  d'Art  en  Anglel^jre.  (Paris,  1865)  —  Burger,  W.  Velasquez  et  ses  CEuvres. 
•  '(^a-As,  1865)  —  Carducho,  V.  Dialogos  de  la  Pintura.  (Madrid,  1633) — Cumber- 
land. Anecdotes  of  Painters  in  Spain.  (London,  1782)  —  Curtis,  C.  B.  Catalogue 
of  the  Works  of  Velasquez  and  Murillo.  (London  and  New  York,  1883)  —  Davillier, 
C.  Menioire  de  Velasquez.  (Paris,  1874) — El  Arte  en  Espafia.  (Madrid,  1862) 
—  Ford,  R.  Handbook  for  Spain.  (London,  1855)  —  Ford,  R.  Velasquez.  Penny 
Cyclopaedia.  (London,  1833-43)  —  Gautier,  T.  Guide  de  T Amateur  au  Musee  du 
Louvre.  (Paris,  1882)  —  Gautier,  T.  Tableaux  a  la  Plume.  (Paris,  1880)  —  Guel- 
LETTE,  C.  Les  Peintres  Espagnols.  (Paris,  1863)  —  JusTi,  C.  Diego  Velazquez  und 
sein  Jahrhundert.  (Bonn,  1889) — JusTi,  C.  Velasquez  and  His  Times:  Trans,  by 
A.  H.  Keane.  (London  and  Philadelphia,  1889) — Knackfuss,  H.  Velazquez.  (Leipsic, 
1895) — Lavvson,  E.  K.  Catalogue  of  the  Mwseo  del  Prado.  (Madrid,  1S96)  —  Lefort, 
P.  Velazquez.  (Paris,  1888) — ^Madrazo,  Don  Pedro  de.  Catalogo  del  Museo  del 
Prado.  (Madrid,  1872)  —  Madrazo,  Don  Pedro  de.  Viage  Artistico  de  tres  sigios 
por  las  Colecciones.  (Barcelona,  1884)  —  Pacheco,  F.  El  Arte  de  la  Pintura.  (Seville, 
1649)  —  Palomino  de  Castro  y  Velasco.  El  Museo  Pictorico  y  Escala  Optica.  (Madrid, 
1715)  —  Passavant.  Die  Christliche  Kunst  in  Spanien.  (Leipsic,  1853)  —  Quillet. 
Dictionnaire  des  Peintres  Espagnols.  (Paris,  181  5)  —  Rios,  Amador  de  los.  Seville  Pin- 
toresca,  etc.  (Seville,  1844)  —  Ris,  C.  de.  Le  Musee  de  Madrid.  (Paris,  1859)  —  Rob- 
inson, Sir  J.  C.  Memoranda  on  Fifty  Pictures.  (London,  1868)  —  Sanchez,  C.  A.  Los 
Museos  de  Espaiia.  (Madrid,  1875)  —  Stevenson, R.  A.M.  The  Art  of  Velasquez.  (Lon- 
don, 1895)  — Stirling-Maxwell,  Sir  W.  Annals  of  the  Artists  of  Spain.  (London, 
1848) — Stirling-Maxwell,  Sir  W.  Velasquez  and  His  Works.  (London,  1855)  — 
Stowe,  E.  Velasquez.  (London,  1881)  —  Valle,  Zarco  del.  Documentos  ineditos 
para  la  Historia  de  las  Bellas  Artes  en  Espana.  (Madrid,  1870) — Viardot,  L.  Les  Mu- 
sees  d' Espagne.  (Paris,  i860)  —  Villaamil,  C.  Revista  Europa:  Informaciones  de  las 
caliaades  de  Velasquez.  (Madrid,  1874)  —  Wyzewa,  T.  de.  Les  Grands  Peintres  de 
TEspagne  et  de  I'Angleterre.    (Paris,  1891). 

magazine  articles 

ART  Journal,  vol.  4:  Velazquez  —  Art  Journal,  vol.  35:  Velasquez  —  Art  Jour- 
nal, VOL.  40:  Paul  Lefort's  Velazquez — L'Art,  nov.  and  dec,  1878:  Quelques 
Velasquez  au  Musee  de  Madrid  (P.  de  Madrazo)  —  L'Artiste,  march,  1868:  Velasquez 
(T.  Gautier)  —  Blackwood's  Magazine,  vol.  164:  Velasquez  the  Courtier- — ^Black- 
vvood's  Magazine, vol.  166:  Two  Spectacles  —  Chamber's  Journal,  vol.  8  :  Velasquez's 
Lost  Picture  —  Dial,  vol.  10:  Justi's  Life  of  Velasquez  (A.  French)  —  Edinburgh  Re- 
view, VOL.  171:  Diego  Velasquez  —  Fortnightly  Review,  vol.  71:  Tercentenary  of 
Velasquez  (H.  Ellis)  —  Eraser's  Magazine,  vol.  52:  Stirling-Maxwell's  "Velasquez  and 
His  Works" — Gazette  des  Beaux-Arts,  1863:  Velasquez  a  Madrid  (C.  Blanc)  —  Ga- 
zette DEs  Beaux-Arts,  1879,  1880,  1881,  1882,  1883,  1884:  Velazquez  (Paul  Lefort) 
— Jahrbuch  der  Preussischen  Kunstsammlungen,  1887:  Velazquez  (C.  Justi)  — 
Kunst-Chronik,  vol.  19:  Velasquez  —  Lippincott's  Magazine,  vol.  51:  Velasquez 
(C.  C.  Cooper)  —  Literary  World,  vol.  14:  Velasquez  —  Living  Age,  vol.  188: 
Velasquez  and  His  King  (H.  A.  Kennedy)  —  Magazine  of  Art,  vol.  6:  Velasquez  — 
Nation,  VOL.  49:  Justi's  Life  of  Velasquez  (Kenyon  Cox)  —  Nation,  vol.  59:  Velasquez 
in  Madrid  (E.  R.  Pennell)  —  North  American  Review,  July,  1S99:  The  Tercentenary  of 
Velasquez  (Charles  Whibley)  —  Portfolio,  JULY,  1896:  Life  of  Velasquez  (Walter  Arm- 
strong)—  Portfolio,  OCT.,  1896:  Art  of  Velasquez  (Walter  Armstrong)  —  Quarterly 
Review,  vol.  83:  "Head  and  Stirling  on  Spanish  Art" — Quarterly  Review,  vol. 
133:  Velasquez  —  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  july,  1861:  Velasquez  (C.  E.  Beule)  — 
Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  aug.  and  sept.,  1894:  Velasquez  (E.  Michel)  —  Saturday 
Review,  TOL.  67:  Velasquez  —  Saturday  Review,  vol.  81:  Art  of  Velasquez  by  Steven- 
son—  Westminster  Review,  vol.  64:  Works  of  Velasquez  —  Zeitschrift  fur  Bildende 
Kunst,  vol.  11  and  vol.  18:  Velasquez. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


DEC  26  1947 


JUL  3  0  2000 


LD  21-100)n-9,'47(A5702sl6)476 


YD  32241 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


/ 

VELASQUEZ 

172    PICTURES 

Price,  net    .    $1.75 

Postage,  26  cents  additional 

^T~^HIS   book  is  in  the  German  series  of  monographs 

1      upon  the  great  painters,  pubHshed  under  the   title, 

JL     KLASSIKER    DER    KUNST.      The   pictures   are 

preceded    by    a    biographical    sketch    (in    German).      The 

size  of  the  book  is  8  x  10^  inches;   the  binding,  full  cloth. 

Prices  quoted  are  net,  and  postage  must  be  added  for  mail 

orders.    The  full  list  of  subjects  thus  far  published  follows: 

I    Raphael  (275  pictures)      .     .      $2.00,  postage  extra,  28  cents 

II    Rembrandt,    Paintings    (643 

pictures) 3.50         "             "       50     " 

III   Titian  (274  pictures)   .     . 

1.75       "           ♦•      28    " 

IV    Diirer  (473  pictures)    .     . 

2.50       "           •♦      38    " 

V    Rubens  (551  pictures)      .     . 

3.00       "           "      44    " 

VI    Velasquez  (172  pictures) 

1.75       "           ««      25     " 

VII    Michelangelo  (169  pictures)         1.50         '♦             "        26      " 

yill    Rembrandt,    Etchings    (402 

pictures) 2.00         '•             "        32     "                  | 

IX    Schwind  (1,265  pictures) 

3.75       "           "      56     " 

X    Correggio  (196  pictures) 

1.75       "           *'      25     - 

XI    Donatello  (277  pictures) 

2.00       "           "      28    " 

XII    Uhde  (285  pictures)     .     . 

2.50       "           •'      34    " 

XIII   Van  Dyck  (537  pictures) 

3-75         "            "       48     " 

XIV    Memlinc  (197  pictures)    . 

1.75        -            "       28     " 

XV    Thoma  (874  pictures) 

3-75         "            "       52     " 

XVI    Mantegna  (270  pictures) 

2.00        ••            "       28     •' 

XVII   Rethel  (280  pictures)       .     .         2.25         "             "       28     " 

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